


Halcyon Nights

by Tabsbee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Talon!Fareeha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 06:29:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12382767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabsbee/pseuds/Tabsbee
Summary: Fareeha and Amélie's last days in Talon.





	Halcyon Nights

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a fantastic piece of art last night and then wrote this story today so to say I was inspired is putting it mildly.  
> Please enjoy

Fareeha casually leaned against the wall in the alley, the shadows she had attempted to hide in obliterated by the garish purple light of a neon sign across the street. She had a mission, a specific mission to spy on and observe a weapons manufacturer who was most likely funding rebel armies across Europe. Reaper had said he was the perfect mark, watch him and steal some shit, easy enough. She knew the mission, she knew the purpose, but she found herself caring less and less.

No, Fareeha wasn’t sure she cared for the mission at all. Not when there were more pressing matters. Matters like Widowmaker, _Amélie_ , sauntering toward her, hips swaying and black jeans _tight_ . The boots she wore gave her an extra few inches of height, her steps calculated to keep her balance in the heels. She wore a thin jacket over a thin shirt and Fareeha faintly recalled her mentioning she doesn’t feel the cold anymore. And her hair, straight and long and _down_ , a rare sight.

The woman walked toward her, practically _stalked_ toward her, back in the alley and away from the entrance to the club where people queued.

“Fareeha. Your mark is inside.” Amélie trailed her pointer finger down the front of Fareeha’s leather jacket, she had ridden her bike here after all, and had leaned in to whisper in her ear. Her breath was warm on the shell of Fareeha’s ear.

“Yes, but you are out here.” Her response elicited a curl on the other woman’s lips. As if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“That is because I am your backup, chérie.”

Fareeha smirked and pulled the other woman closer, _closer_ , and slipped a hand around her waist. Amélie almost laughed and leaned in, one hand bracing herself on Fareeha’s shoulder.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this mission.” Amélie reminded her.

Fareeha nuzzled into her neck though, and hummed in acknowledgement.

“Are you saying you want me to leave now? To go inside and get lost in the crowd?”

Amélie took a deep breath and grabbed the collar of Fareeha’s jacket with one hand, the other snaked around her shoulder to grab the hair at the nape of her neck.

Fareeha stared lazily at Amélie's lips, they were nearly the same height with Amélie’s heels. Fareeha let her left arm hang, limp, the cold metal sheathed in the leather jacket.

Amélie's hand began to curl and scratch and knead at Fareeha’s scalp. She leaned her head back in satisfaction, bearing her neck, and Amélie pounced like the vampire Sombra always teased her to be.

She licked slowly up Fareeha’s strong neck, up to her jaw where she placed kisses along the sharp jawline. Fareeha snapped her head back into place and crashed her lips into Amélie’s.

Amélie had unzipped Fareeha’s jacket and slipped her arm inside, her hand exploring up and down the thin shirt covering her back. They kissed slowly, messily, like they had all the time in the world. Fareeha moved her right hand down and cupped Amelie’s ass, the tight jeans barely giving way for Fareeha to feel. Fareeha licked at the other woman’s lips, their tongues met and writhed against each other.

“Hey, lovebirds! You may remember we’re on a mission here!” The static laced voice of Sombra came crashing through their ears, dismantling the hazy world they’d build in the shadows of the alley.

“We know what we’re doing.” Amélie bit back harshly. Despite that, she almost curled into Fareeha’s chest, heavy breaths hitting her collarbone. She removed her hand from its exploration of Fareeha’s back and trailed along her chest once more.

“Do we, now?” Fareeha quipped lightheartedly. Amélie stepped back and placed a finger over the other womans lips to shush her. She then placed a kiss over that.

“Be a good little birdy, and do your job. I’ll be around.” With that, Amélie had become Widowmaker again and left Fareeha in the darkness with one last glance over her shoulder. Fareeha simply watched her as she left the alley and rounded the corner, out of sight but certainly not mind.

She sighed and zipped her jacket up, fixing the collar and smoothing her hair once more. The mission, once again, was at the forefront of her mind.

 

Fareeha had been inside this club for half an hour and she found herself with a splitting headache. The thump of the bass in nearly every song that played was beginning to burrow its way inside of her skull, the knocking and rattling of the songs torturing her with every rise.

She had been watching her mark the entire time. He was an older man with a penchant for younger women. He had the money to buy expensive bottles of wine and hand them out to any pretty lady that caught his eye. Fareeha had only seen Sombra once inside the club, unable to catch a glimpse of Amélie slithering around the bodies inside.

She had been inside the club for half an hour watching a sleazy man buy himself some pretty company, when she caught somebody else’s attention. They had connected eyes accidentally, both scanning the room like military generals.

Fareeha had been in the club for half an hour when she saw Angela. The weapons dealer must have put in a request for Overwatch security, fearing any Talon activity. Well he had been right. And now Fareeha found herself locking eyes with a woman she used to smile at.

Fareeha knew Angela well enough to see the sadness swelling in her eyes. To see the agony in the small frown that graced her lips. Fareeha wasn’t Widowmaker. She hadn’t been reconditioned to have no emotions. And so, she dropped her mark and walked away. He wasn’t worth it. What would come of a fight between Talon and Overwatch at a small club on a tiny cobblestone street in Europe? Dead civilians, that’s what.

So Fareeha walked away again. She had become good at that. And she’d deal with Akande and Reaper tomorrow. Because fuck that. She was free. She didn’t have to do anything.

* * *

For the past eight months, Fareeha had been working _with_ Talon, the very organization she vowed to destroy when she was little. When Overwatch was in it’s prime and Ana Amari and Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes were heroes. It had become increasingly clear to Fareeha, however, that Overwatch has outstayed its’ welcome. They were needed once, when the world was in danger, but now they do nothing but bring chaos.

Her doubts simmered over the past years, she had seen what Overwatch had done to its agents. Nearly every founding member was dead or mangled or lost. Jack and Ana and Gabe were long gone. Angela looked ragged every time Fareeha saw her. Fareeha could see the toll that Overwatch was taking. And then everything changed.

It was a typical escort mission. Keep this large cache of weapons safe until they reach their destination. Fareeha went about her day like any other. She had been grounded when they were attacked, the enemies, was it Talon? She didn’t even know. They had snipers and plenty of people to shoot her out of the sky so Fareeha worked from the ground. Until she received the all-clear for air support.

She rocket jumped, like always, and in seconds she was blown out of the sky. Fareeha still didn’t know what hit her, she had her suspicions, but she woke without her left arm and with one battered Gabriel Reyes standing over her. It changed everything. She thought about how that one mistake, whoever called her to the sky, lost her arm. How everything that happened that day ended in the deaths of hundreds of civilians. And then Gabe. He spoke to her the way he did when she was just a child.

He didn’t ask her to join Talon. In fact, Fareeha sometimes considers she isn’t part of Talon. She simply assists them when Gabe asks. She knows it doesn’t clear her name in any way, but she doesn’t care either.

Gabriel and Sombra had helped her get a fancy prosthetic arm, had helped her learn to use it. Gabe even let her stay in one of Talon’s safehouses. When Fareeha had asked him why? He had told her it was because he wouldn’t leave her like Overwatch did.

Of course, Fareeha wasn’t sure she believed him when he said they turned and ran when the fight turned against their favor. How Helix was too busy keeping their charge safe to realize they lost one of their own. She didn’t remember anything after she got blown out of the sky. But she somehow found herself in the care of Talon.

Somehow, that was alright. She would sit and watch the small television as the news relayed the horrors of the world. She used to get the twinge, the need to do something. Until she looked at her arm, rapped on the metal, _I did do something. I did something and I lost everyone I loved and nothing has changed_.

Widowmaker would stop by, usually with food and the sentiment that wherever it was that the rest of Talon was staying, they were driving her out of her mind and she needed a break. They watched movies in silence, cartons of takeout in front of them as Fareeha struggled around her new arm.

It began when she was staring at herself in the mirror. Shirt off, arm on full display. She stared in disgust at the new appendage. The metal and the red and black gleaming back at her. All things considered, it was an excellent piece of technology. She had seen the prosthetics some of the soldiers in the Egyptian Army were given. They didn’t even compare.

But she was always a hero, a soldier, an athlete. She used her body to it’s fullest. And now she resented it. Then _Amélie_ changed that.

She walked into Fareeha’s room, the desolate room with a bed and a dresser and a mirror, as Fareeha was loathing herself. She had no boundaries, no restraint.

Amélie pushed herself flush against Fareeha’s back and wrapped her arms around her waist. With no second thoughts she pressed kisses to the junction of Fareeha’s body and her metal arm.

“You must think you are less than.” She said as she settled her chin on Fareeha’s shoulder.

“It’s awkward, and clunky, and cold.” Fareeha stated solemnly, paying no mind to the drastic new change in their interactions.

“Lucky for you, I don’t feel the cold much.” Amélie whispered into her ear. She gripped Fareeha’s shoulders and turned her around, eyes raking over her body.

“I knew you’d be a fantastic acquisition for Talon. Now, use both your hands, and show me just what you can do.”

Fareeha didn’t like the implications, but she also couldn’t deny what was right in front of her. It had been an awful long time, and what better way to love herself, than with someone else?

* * *

Fareeha and Amélie were tangled with one another on top of a small single bed, limbs hanging off the side and heads bumping into the walls. The small, barren room barely contained their electricity. They were lazy though, spent and sore from their past days.

They had just returned from a shitty mission, the type that left them all bruised and scraped and bloody. The type that failed miserably and left Gabe and Akande furious and shouting like divorcing parents as the girls listened in silence. The type that led Fareeha to being the big teddy bear that _both_ Widowmaker and Sombra curled into, the latter barely caging her tears.

Amélie had managed to pin Fareeha on the bed, she suspected the bigger woman let her, and settled herself atop her lap.

“Good girl.” She whispered as she leaned down and lightly nibbled at Fareeha’s earlobe. She ran her hands down the woman’s chest, her toned stomach, her sharp hip bones.

“Ma petit corbeau.” She said.

Fareeha’s eyes flashed. She was _nobodies_ . She didn’t belong to Overwatch or Helix, didn’t belong to Talon, and she certainly didn’t belong to _Amélie_. She was free, that was the whole reason she still existed. To be free of all constraints that had been bestowed upon her all her life.

She stood swiftly, Amélie tumbled from her lap and onto the bed with little of her usual grace. She didn’t register the fire in Fareeha’s eyes yet. Her silk robe had slipped open, a large window in the front to her body. Fareeha looked at her, hard, she almost felt bad for the other woman.

“I’m not your _anything_ . I think it’s time I make that clear, _Amélie_.” Fareeha spoke firmly before she walked out of the small room, leaving the door wide open and stalking down the hallway.

Amélie was breathing heavily, her anger and humiliation whirling around in her mind.

She heard laughing and saw Sombra leaning on the doorframe, witnessing Amélie's less than perfect image for once.

The other woman stood there long enough to unnerve her, causing Amélie to wrap her robe tightly around herself and stand furiously.

“What?” She barked at Sombra.

She smirked in response and pushed away from the doorframe.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you, araña? Birds eat spiders, and it looks like that birds done playing with her dinner.” She left with a wink toward Amélie and continued down the hallway, still wrapping gauze around the arm that suffered a massive gash during their mission.

Amélie shook in anger. She had half a mind to throw something at the other woman, but she simply closed the door and sat on the bed. She didn’t cry, she told herself. She didn’t have emotions. The few tears that escaped from her eyes were flukes. She knew that.

 

It had been days since the team had suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of Overwatch. The atmosphere around the base hadn’t lightened. In fact, both Gabe and Akande seemed angrier than ever. Sombra was gone most days, only returning to sleep and sneak out before sunrise. Amélie hadn’t seen Fareeha since she blew up at her days prior.

It was certainly the end of something, but Amélie hadn’t figured out what yet. Their team, all of Talon, or simply her and Fareeha? They weren’t exactly anything in the first place, but Amelie had a rock in her stomach ever since she watched Fareeha walk away.

Sombra was right, she supposed. Fareeha was done playing with her new toy. Amélie may have been what she needed for a time, but they grew out of that phase. Didn’t they?

Amélie couldn’t stand the silence at the base one particular day, and so she left for the safehouse that Fareeha stayed in. Perhaps they could go back to _silently_ watching movies together.

Hours later and Amélie had finally arrived at the brick apartment building with two large bags of takeout chinese food. She shouldered her way through the doors and up to the apartment that Talon owned. She stepped in to a silent apartment, cold and dark.

“Fareeha?” She called out not missing the hint of hope in her voice. In fact, she resented it a little.

No response. No gear, no motorcycle out front. Perhaps Fareeha wasn’t here. Perhaps Fareeha went back to Helix or Overwatch or wherever it was she was from. Perhaps Fareeha wasn’t meant to be part of Talon at all.

Amélie spent that next few hours watching movies and drinking tea on her own. The quiet mumble of the television hardly made her feel any better than back at the base. She didn’t know what was wrong with her.

It was past midnight and she found herself sitting in the kitchen with just her silk robe on, sipping on a cup of chamomile tea. She stood and stared out the window above the sink, out into the light polluted night sky. And she hated herself just a little bit.

The door crashed open and Amélie spun in surprise, her teacup crashing to the floor and shattering glass and hot tea around her bare feet.

Fareeha stood at the doorway, staring inside at an almost fearful Widowmaker.

She walked in and headed straight for the bedroom where she kept most of her things. She had a duffel bag and her motorcycle helmet, dressed for riding.

“Fareeha?” Amélie called. “Are you… are you leaving?” The tremble in her voice would keep her up for nights to come. She felt weak.

Fareeha walked back out after a minute and dropped her duffel bag and helmet on top of that. She stared at Amélie, motionless in the kitchen, and nodded.

“Where? Back to… them?” Amélie wasn’t sure what she was asking. Back to Overwatch? Back to Helix? Did it matter?

“No. I’m done, Amélie. I’m done fighting.” Fareeha stepped closer, into the kitchen and the dim light filtering through the window.

“So what? You’re just done with all of this?”

“Yes. I’ve fought for justice and for freedom, I’ve seen chaos and war, I’ve lost loved ones and pieces of myself. I’m done being a pawn. Nothing has changed, nothing will change, so why don’t I live my life while I still have one.”

Amélie wrapped her arms around herself, the cold that drifted in through the open door wrapping its chilly tendrils around her lithe frame. She felt something.

“You’re just going to walk away from everyone you’ve ever known? Where will you go?”

“Maybe the Alps. I haven’t skied in ages.” She had a ghost of a smile on her face as she stepped closer to Amélie.

For the first time since the Egyptian joined them, Amélie felt small and vulnerable. Wearing nothing but her silk robe, barefoot and standing amongst the glass of her cup, the tea cooling on her feet. Fareeha, outfitted for riding with her heavy boots and jacket, was towering over her. She stepped closer still, the glass crunching beneath her boots and the light beginning to cast over her face. Her eyes were kind.

“Come with me, ya helwa.” She bent down to wrap her arms around Amélie, both flesh and metal, and lifted her from amongst the broken glass and out of the kitchen. She seated her on the back of the couch, back in the darkness where the window couldn’t reach them.

Amélie leaned her forehead against Fareeha’s chest, inhaling the smell of the cold outdoors. The smell of oil.

“Come with me. They’ve never done anything for you.” Fareeha tucked Amélie's long dark hair behind her ears and let her hand linger on her jaw. She tugged her up, to look into her eyes and Amélie let herself be guided.

“They already took one life, Amélie. Don’t give them this one.”

“You remember I am the Widowmaker?” Amélie asked pointedly.

Fareeha smiled though, softly, probably the only time she has ever looked at the other woman like that.

“You don’t have to be.”

Amélie leaned against Fareeha again, she tucked her face into the other woman’s neck and wrapped her arms around her. She was warm and safe, held in place by Fareeha. They remained like that for some time, until Fareeha gently pulled away and looked down at her.

“I have some things to do. I’ll be back, in an hour. If you won’t come then, I guess this is goodbye.” She kissed Amélie gently, slowly, savoring the moment that may not come again.

She left Amélie there, leaning against the back of the couch in nothing but a silk robe. Amelie let out a shuddered breath, watching the door close as Fareeha walked away once more. She looked to the bedroom, she kept very few things in the safehouse. Even fewer things back at the base.

Amélie caught her breath and grabbed a notepad and pen.

She wrote ‘I’m Sorry’ on the pad and left it on the counter before walking into the bedroom. Something was certainly ending.

 

Fareeha returned to the safe house with no expectations. Amélie was a woman who could go either way. She would leave and say she doesn’t owe Talon anything. She would stay and say she enjoys killing. Fareeha didn’t know her well enough, didn’t know her except for her body. Fareeha knew her cool skin, the three moles, _beauty marks, Cherie,_ below her right breast. The dimples just above her ass. The way she writhes when she’s orgasming. Fareeha could map that body. But the mind inside? It was a mystery still. Anything could happen.

That’s what Fareeha had convinced herself of when she returned to an empty apartment. The safehouse was its usual, devoid of anything that made it a home. The heat had been turned off and Fareeha noticed the notepad on the kitchen counter.

_I’m Sorry._

She picked it up and stared at it as she felt… something. Not heartbreak, certainly not yet. But perhaps loneliness? She had never felt so alone.

“Are you coming, ma chére?”

Fareeha turned, notepad in hand, and saw Amélie at the open doorway. She held a simple plastic bag in her hand, filled with clothes. She had changed too, her tight black jeans and tall boots were more fitting for a motorcycle ride.

She held the notepad out questioningly, as if to say _this wasn’t for me?_

“I almost feel bad to leave Sombra at the mercy of those two.” Amélie explained as she stepped into the apartment and closer to Fareeha.

“I left her a note. Told her to get out, maybe find… us. I went to the base earlier, you were already gone. I didn’t really need anything here… I was just hoping to find you.” Fareeha admitted to Amélie.

And she smiled. Not a big smile, but a real smile, soft and gentle and _warm._ And Fareeha thought it was beautiful.

She opened her arms and engulfed the other woman, nuzzling against the cool skin of her neck. Amélie's breath hit her ear and she shivered slightly.

“So,” Amélie began, whispering against her, “the alps?”

Fareeha laughed lightly. “I’m open to suggestions.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still undecided if there'll be an epilogue.  
> Edit: Added the accent to Amélie's name because it bothered me.


End file.
